


The Womp Rat and His Womp Rat

by Chordae



Series: Din Djarin’s Guide To Fatherhood and All the Existential Crises Inbetween [4]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Accidental Womp Rat Acquisition, ManDadlorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chordae/pseuds/Chordae
Summary: Not only is he to raise his kid who vaguely resembles a womp rat, apparently now he’s expected to raise an actual womp rat.
Series: Din Djarin’s Guide To Fatherhood and All the Existential Crises Inbetween [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586989
Comments: 18
Kudos: 276





	The Womp Rat and His Womp Rat

It was supposed to be a quick run to Tatooine, snag the bounty from some lowlife at the spacedocks, carbonite them, then leave.

All things considered, it  _ was  _ as quick run to Tatooine and he got the bounty in near to no time at all.

He slides the bounty frozen in carbonite onto the rack and tosses the tracking fob off to a nearby table.

Din runs a quick inventory check on the rest of bounties frozen in carbonite, then returns his weaponry to the armory. The kid had stayed on ship, exhausted from his most recent attempt of ‘harnessing the force’, as Cara kindly put it.

Din walks through the cramped corridor of the  _ Razor Crest _ , making sure nothing had been tampered with while he was gone, either by the claws of his kid or the meddling of a local womp rat. 

As he double-checks for frayed wires he catches the sound of his kid’s pitched laughter, boisterous and gurgly, coming from the bunk room. With a final cursory glance at the panel he considers his work done, then tip-toes off and follows the delighted noise.

He quietly turns the corner to the quarters, mouth opened to greet the kid, when he stops dead in his tracks.

His kid’s playing with a womp rat as if it’s some adorable creature to behold, lacking any disease and status as a ‘pest’.

The kid blows a raspberry at the womp rat, moving the small creature through the air as if imitating a spaceship. With a few ‘whoosh’ noises, complimentary of the kid, the womp rat almost makes a convincing spaceship. 

The kid turns in the midst of his playing and immediately catches sight of Din, eyes widening in elation as he scrambles to stand up, womp rat still firmly in his grip.

“Da!” The kid chortles, hoisting the small womp rat higher into the air, its tail flicking about in disdain and its empty eyes trained on Din.

Din takes a silent moment to determine whether or whether not the womp rat is to be considered  _ hostile _ \- and then he remembers that the kid had previously been playing with it as if it were a doll, and assumes not.

Then he does a mental doubletake, and scrambles to recall if the kid has ever gotten sick- which,  _ thank the stars,  _ has never happened- and takes a longer time to consider if the womp rat poses a viral danger to his kid. 

Caught between deciding whether he should just boot the rat out the ship  _ now _ (and considering the amount of pure joy on his kid’s face, the odds are low that he’ll do so), he catches sight of the waiting expression plastered on his kid’s,  _ ugh,  _ adorable face.

“Hey, kid.” He drawls as a greeting, and vaguely gestures at the womp rat. “Whatcha got there?”

“Pbft!” The kid blows another raspberry, grasping the womp rat in one hand and pointing at it with another. “Pbft!” He insists, shaking the poor creature.

_ If the thing just lets him do that,  _ he assumes,  _ then maybe it’ll be alright to keep it around for awhile.  _

“...Ah,” Din agrees, unsure as to what he’s supposed to do in this situation. “Of course.”

The kid toddles forward, then thrusts the womp rat up at Din, continually lifting it to him, as if expecting Din to gratefully take the rat.

Din, at a loss of what to do, takes the womp rat out of the kid’s hands and into his arms, its tail tense and still against his arm guards. Its beady eyes stare up at him, its nose twitching a bit, then stopping. The rat buries itself into his chest against the cool of his Beskar armor.

“Da!” The kid all but shrieks, arms directly above his head in the universal sign of ‘up!’. Din easily hoists the kid up and onto his hip, his grubby little claws immediately digging theirselves into the shaggy fur of the womp rat. 

It’s- well, it’s an adorable scene, save for what he thinks is blood plastered to the underbelly of the rat, and the vague, feces-like smell that clings to its fur. 

His kid looks up at him, brown eyes determined and mouth set in a grim line. He claws at the rat’s fur in a poor imitation of petting, then roughly pats the creature.

“Pbft.” The kid insists, continuing his patting.  _ “Pbft.” _

Din, taking a moment to process what the kid means with his limited vocabulary of ‘da’, ‘pbft’, and the occasional raspberry, finally comes to the weak conclusion that the kid wants him to pet the womp rat.

“I can’t pet it.” Din reasons. “Both my arms are full- I’m holding you  _ and  _ the rat.” 

“Pbft!” The kid shrieks, the intensity of the patting growing at an alarming rate. “PBFT!”

“Yeah, okay- fine.” Din acknowledges. “-but I’m gonna have to put you down, first.” He says, and bends over to put the kid on the ground.

The kid notices the fact that he is no longer being held and whimpers, as if this hadn’t been his plan, then flattens his ears against the side of his head.

“Pbft.” He bemoans.

Din pets the womp rat, and the kid’s suddenly elated, gurgling and shrieking, poorly dancing around as he trips on his robes every few seconds. He allows the kid his momentary glee, then returns his attention to the womp rat.

The womp rat hasn’t killed either of the members of his clan, and it doesn’t seem to be that much of a threat. To Din, that’s about as good as it gets.

“Well, uh.” He can’t believe he’s talking to a womp rat,  _ kriff  _ what has fatherhood done to him. “You’re not that bad, considering.” The rat twitches its nose at him, as if sassing him. “Don’t you things live two standard weeks?” He lamely asks, mostly to the air, but the rat acknowledges him with a beady-eyed stare. 

A beat of silence passes between him and the rat. Din glances over to the still-celebrating kid, and shakes his head with a brief chuckle. 

“Well,” He edges. “Welcome to the clan, Pbft.”

**Author's Note:**

> why is this the longest of my works.


End file.
